


Reset

by onceuponachildhood



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Experimental Style, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-12
Updated: 2017-07-12
Packaged: 2018-12-01 02:04:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11476317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onceuponachildhood/pseuds/onceuponachildhood
Summary: Frisk isn't alone in their head anymore. Frisk isn't helpless, either.





	Reset

**Author's Note:**

> This has been sitting long enough. It's time to share with all y'all.

Frisk followed the tall monster, her robes making soft swishing noises against the old stone of the ruins. Toriel was kind, and doting, and...  _ trusting _ . Look at her back to you, unprotected, something whispered in their mind. Think of how easy it would be to just end her right here.

 

But after she saved me? part of them wanted to ask. That part was old, old as Frisk can remember, their own voice well-worn and well known.

With what weapon? another part of them chimed. That part was new, and frightening, but Frisk envied the power behind it all the same. They’re not that strong.

 

Unaware of the conflict in their mind, Toriel turned to face them again, gesturing toward a dummy. “-if something attacks you, strike up a friendly conversation! Keep them distracted and I will save you.”

 

Frisk moved toward the dummy, nose wrinkled. It looked like one of those fighting dummies in the kung-fu movies their dad used to like. Dummies weren’t for talking, they were for fighting! But Frisk stepped toward it with unclenched fists. “Hey, dummy. You’re… you’re a real dummy.”

 

The insult wasn’t their best, but it certainly wasn’t their worst. Something in their mind wanted to strike out at the dummy for, well, no reason at all. The dummy didn’t react to Frisk’s words, but Toriel looked pleased. That’s reason enough to strike, something whispered to Frisk. What do you care if she’s pleased? What does she mean to you? As if possessed, Frisk lunged forward, slamming the heel of their hand into the dummy’s torso. The thing toppled, landing hard and splitting a little at its seams. Part of Frisk flinched back at the eerily wound-like rips, but part of them cackled.

 

“No, no!” Toriel cried. “Dummies aren’t for fighting. They’re for talking. Oh, and you were doing so well. You were doing so very good, my child.”

 

**_I ’ M  N O T  Y O U R  C H I L D_ ** . 

 

Frisk flinched, though from the roaring in their head or Toriel’s disapproving tone they weren’t sure. Toriel seemed to think it was the latter, and her stern look softened. “There, there, child. It’s alright. You can do better next time.” She put a comforting hand on Frisk’s shoulder. The weight of it felt like it would crush them, though she’d barely put any weight on it at all. “I believe in you.”

 

Frisk had thought her concern was crushing before. Now, they swallowed and just concentrated on breathing. “Y-yeah.”

 

“In any case, we should move on,” Toriel said, perhaps sensing some of Frisk’s discomfort. She moved away enough that Frisk could breathe again. Frisk frowned, following slowly. What was it that they felt in the face of Toriel’s concern? Why was it so hard to stand? They only remembered feeling so choked like this when… when they were scared...

 

I am not afraid of her, their mind cried. The voice sounded angry, and yes, maybe a little sad. I am not afraid of anything.

Then what? Frisk asked. What am I feeling?

Nothing. Keep moving. 

 

And they did, following Toriel to a strange, long room. They felt like they knew this room, somehow. Toriel looked down the length of the room, then back at Frisk. She was talking, but all Frisk could hear was that she was leaving them. Toriel left, and Frisk stood at the entrance to the room, their eyes peering down through the path the Toriel had taken. Walk to the end of the room by yourself, she’d said. You can do this, Frisk. It’s just a dark, empty room. You don’t need her to hold your hand through it.

 

You don’t need her for anything, the voice added.

 

Frisk made their way along the path, ignoring the dark that seemed to press in from all sides. Just follow the path, Frisk. Go off the path, Frisk. Follow the path, Frisk. Go off the path, Frisk. Frisk hadn’t realized they’d stopped walking, but they had. They shook their head, trying to get their thoughts to settle.

 

From a pillar to the left, Toriel stepped forth. “See? I did not leave you, my child!” Relief warred with resentment inside them. “Rather, I wanted to test your independence. There will be times that I cannot be with you, and I wanted to know that you could handle being by yourself.” Toriel smiled. “There are things that I must do, my child. Wait here and be good, and I will return shortly.” She  _ was _ leaving them. Resentment won the war, hardening Frisk’s expression into a scowl. Toriel chuckled, perhaps misreading their expression as a pout. “Not to worry, my child. I have a solution.” She passed them an old, clunky cell phone. Frisk glared at the object in their hands, as if it was the cause of their anger rather than the kindly woman before them. Frisk wasn’t sure why they were angry at Toriel, either.

 

She left you, came the hissed voice.

I can’t be constantly glued to her side, they countered. But still, it stung.

 

“If you have need of me, you can call,” she suggested. “And I will be back before you know it. Wait here for me, my child.”

 

She left. **Again** . She’s just going to keep leaving you, Frisk.

 

Frisk flung the phone away from themselves. How dare she act like that hunk of metal was the same as being there? How could it suffice? Just like your parents left you alone, part of them murmured. Just like everyone you loved left you. If you love her, she’s going to break your heart.

 

They don’t know how, but they already love her. They love her in the small, sheltered corner of their heart that they shield from the new voice. The new voice knows this. She’s going to break your heart, it says. Break hers instead.

 

Frisk shivered. They rubbed their arms, looking around the empty room. There’s nothing here for you, Frisk. They weren’t sure which part of them said it, the old voice or the new, but they agreed. The doorway loomed before them, imposing and inviting in turn. Frisk blinked. Suddenly, they were determined to see the rest of the ruins. 

 

You don’t need her. Just go. 

 

Frisk turned from the door for a moment. They didn’t know why, but they moved toward to corner where the discarded phone landed. They picked it up. It was a little cracked, but otherwise looked fine.

 

**_L E A V E  I T._ **

 

Something in Frisk railed against the overpowering urge. They pocketed the phone and move on.

 

It wasn’t long before they encountered a monster. It hopped into their path, croaking quietly. A Froggit, Frisk thought, though they had no idea how they knew this. As if in retaliation for their earlier defiance, the part of Frisk so dead set on violence  _ surged _ forth. Frisk clasped their hands together and brought them down as hard as they could onto the Froggit. It let out a pitiful noise before exploding into a pile of dust.

 

Frisk scrambled backward, dust falling from their clothes in their wobbly path. They hiccuped, bringing their hands up to cover their mouth. Dust fell from those too, a soft dry mockery of dripping blood. Wh-what-

 

The new voice cackled. Look how easy it was, Frisk. Look how quickly they fall to you.

No no no no no no no

No?  **No?** **_No?_ ** **FRISK-**

 

Wordless sobs wracked their body.

 

Isn’t this what you wanted, Frisk? Didn’t you want to be  **powerful** ? Didn’t you want to be strong enough to protect yourself? The voice slithered in their mind. Frisk suddenly wanted nothing to do with it. Oh, Frisk, you can’t get rid of me so easily.

You’re not me, the old voice cried. (The old voice is me, Frisk realized. Despite it all, I’m still me.) What  _ are _ you?

The new voice cackled again. New? I’m the  _ only _ voice. Frisk sheltered the little piece of their heart that was still theirs even harder. I’ll get to it eventually, said the voice. 

 

Frisk, move on.

 

They did, legs still shaking slightly. The voice, the feeling, the anger, surged forth whenever something blocked the path. Every time, without fail, it cut the monsters down mercilessly. Frisk quailed in their own mind, shrinking back further and further from the carnage. 

 

No one can push you around anymore, Frisk. Not when I’m here.

This isn’t what I wanted!

It’s what you  **got.**

 

Frisk stumbled through the ruins, piloting their body through a fog of anger. Not their anger, but the  _ other’s _ , yet it filled their mind all the same. They passed through a doorway, already preparing to surrender control to the other and look away from yet another death… but nobody came.

 

Frisk was relieved. The other was annoyed.

 

You have to kill to get stronger, it scoffed.

They didn’t reply, instead, focusing on walking. It was harder after every death, they found, to control their own body again. The other seemed comfortably entrenched. Frisk nearly flinched every time they got a look at their own dust-coated hands. The voice seemed to like it - the thick coating, Frisk’s own horror, all of it.

 

Frisk didn’t want to think about the thing in their head enjoying their own fear. Frisk didn’t want to think about anything but going home. They’d run away, though stumbling through the ruin now, they couldn’t remember why. Someone had hit them. Auntie? Uncle? They couldn’t remember. They’d been scared. They’d run away, run to where their family used to have happy camping trips together. They’d… fallen, into the ruins.

 

And when they’d woken up, they weren’t alone anymore. Not in their head, at least.

 

Frisk passed through another doorway, and the sight ahead was enough to startle the thing inside their head. There was a tree, leaves piled softly at its roots, and a pretty little cottage ahead. The thing seemed frozen, almost, by the sight. Frisk took a couple of tentative steps forward, their legs feeling more solid- more their own- than they had in hours.

 

From the house Toriel emerged. Her expression shifted from peaceful to almost alarmed when she spotted Frisk. The child stopped and waited for the inevitable berating, inwardly cringing. At least the new voice was still too stunned to do anything. “Oh, my child!” Toriel hurried forward, kneeling a bit to look Frisk in the eye. “How did you get here all on your own?” She brushed the dust from Frisk’s front, her brow furrowing. “And without a scratch on you…” Frisk just blinked, trying their very best not to cry. The yelling at home had always been worse when they cried. Toriel sighed, standing again, and ruffled Frisk’s hair. “It’s my fault, my child. I shouldn’t have left you so long. It was irresponsible of me to try to surprise you like this.”

 

She… wasn’t yelling? She wasn’t  _ mad _ ? Even though Frisk had clearly been up to No Good. She was just… glad Frisk was safe? This felt like a trap. The new voice agreed softly, almost shyly, from the back of Frisk’s mind. It didn’t seem inclined to take control again. 

 

Toriel reached out and waited until Frisk laid their hand in hers. “Come inside, child. I have some surprises for you.”

  
  


Later, lying in their bed, Frisk let the tears flow. It wasn’t a trap after all. Toriel had baked them pie, and prepared a bedroom for them, and wanted them to call this… home.

 

It’s not home, the thing hissed. She’s just a stupid substitute for something you don’t need anyway.

 

But Frisk did still miss their mother. They missed their mother and father both, dearly. It hadn’t been very long since the accident, not even a year. And dad’s sister and husband weren’t very nice. Frisk didn’t want to think about them. Not here, not safe in this warm bed with a stomach full of pie. Not where they could never hit Frisk again.

 

Then don’t think about them. It sounded almost like scowling, if a voice could have an expression. You’re weak. This is why you needed me, Frisk. This is why I was able to get in.   
If I’m so weak, then why don’t you just leave?   
What, and waste this chance to rid this pathetic world of all its pathetic people? I told you, Frisk,  **Y O U  C A N ’ T  G E T  R I D  O F  M E  S O  E A S I L Y** .

 

Frisk cried out, pressing the heels of their hands into their eyes. Please go away please go away pleasegoawayplea seg oa w a y

 

There was a thud, and then the sound of a door being opened. Frisk almost didn’t hear it, sobbing as they were. “Oh, my child!” Toriel was by their side in a moment, sitting on the bed and drawing them up in an embrace. “Is everything alright?”

 

The thing recoiled in Toriel’s presence, and it was one more thing to love her for. “I- I-”

 

“Did you have a bad dream?” Toriel asked, voice soft and soothing. Frisk nodded. Oh, how they wished it was all just a bad dream. Still, this was easier to explain. Frisk wasn’t sure if it was their own desire or that of the voice to hide the truth from her. Toriel hmm’d thoughtfully. “Oh, my poor sweet child.” Her hand rubbed circles on Frisk’s back. It was the gentlest Frisk had been handled in months, and they melted a little more into Toriel’s embrace. “You screamed so loud, I was worried that something was in here with you.” Frisk tensed a bit at that, but Toriel didn’t seem to notice. “I’m just glad that you are alright.”

 

“Y-yeah.” Frisk’s chest stopped heaving in its little sobs. “I’m okay, mom-” Both of them tensed at that. The voice, strangely, withdrew further. “I… I mean…” 

 

“Would that make you happy, to call me mother?” Toriel leaned Frisk back just enough to look into their eyes. Frisk’s face felt like it was on fire; they’d called their teacher mom once after the accident and had cried for hours. With Toriel, it just felt… right. So they nodded to her question. The smile Toriel gave them back was so warm Frisk felt like they could bask in it for years. Even her eyes looked a little misty as she said “Then, by all means, call me your mother, my child.”

 

Frisk fell asleep with a cheek pressed to warm fur, a soothing weight on their back.

 

-

 

The house was oddly homey, for something built in old ruins. Frisk wondered if Toriel had built it here. Frisk wondered  _ why _ Toriel had built it here.

 

The voice grumbled in the back of their mind, but said nothing. It seemed content to take a backseat here. Toriel meant safety and comfort. Frisk didn’t need to be strong here. Frisk was protected here.

 

-

 

Frisk expected the thing to be happy it killed Toriel, but instead it was… oddly silent. Frisk knelt in the leftover dust, suddenly unable to stand. Toriel is dead. Toriel is dead and they killed her. There was dust on their legs, on their hands, in their throat- Frisk couldn’t breathe. Their stomach heaved a few times but nothing came up. They couldn’t throw up they couldn’t stand they couldn’t  _ breathe _

 

They managed a few gasping, wordless sobs. Frisk expected tears, but their face stayed dry. The voice wanted to break her heart before she could break theirs, but Frisk felt heartbroken all the same. They couldn’t tell, not exactly, but they thought the other was hurting too.

 

As if in reaction to their thoughts, it recoiled. I feel nothing, it snapped. Nothing but satisfaction. She can’t hurt us if she’s dead.   
Frisk didn’t say that the voice was lying. 

Of course I’m not lying. There was a pause, the voice gathering itself together. Frisk withdrew to their sheltered place so that they didn’t have to feel the dust on their hands.

 

Frisk, move on.

 

And they did. The way was opened to them.

  
  


Monsters fell to Frisk’s hand at an alarming rate, piloted as they were by the other. It was as if whatever shred of humanity it had clung to died with Toriel.

 

-

 

Frisk watched the tall skeleton leave. He looked almost… dejected. That quiet little corner in their heart ached for him, and they didn’t know why. 

 

Useless, said the thing. A waste of time.

 

But still… Frisk nudged it aside, took control of their own body enough to turn away from his retreat back to the untouched puzzle. They frowned down at it. It wasn’t a terribly difficult one-

 

Frisk.  **Stop** .

 

They swallowed once, the fury in the voice almost enough to make them back down. Almost. Drawing on what little strength they had, they stepped onto one of the Xs. It became an O under their feet. They walked the puzzle carefully, treading only where they had to in order to solve the puzzle. The voice in their head was almost screaming, but Frisk didn’t care. They… they  _ wanted _ to solve the puzzle. More importantly, they  _ could _ . 

 

The click of the switch as the puzzle was solved was satisfying.

 

This was inane and useless. You should go kill that worthless skeleton and move on.   
Frisk shivered. Papyrus isn’t- he’s not- their thoughts stuttered. Of course they thought he wasn’t worthless. Nobody was worthless but them. But why did they feel so strongly about  _ him _ ? They didn’t know Papyrus. … did they?

 

There was a cracking sound in the woods. Frisk whipped around, the voice at the forefront of their mind. Nothing. There might have been a flash of blue, but Frisk was fairly certain it was just light reflecting up off the snow.

 

Frisk, move on.

 

They did. The thing had grown more confident, more forward, with every monster they killed. Yes,  _ they _ \- the thing might have been doing the killing, but Frisk was just letting the thing kill. They couldn’t stop it, but they weren’t trying very hard, were they? Too frightened by the gore, or rather the lack thereof. The dust on their sleeves almost looked like snow. Frisk wished it was snow. Too convinced of the thing’s strength, of their own weakness. But they’d solved the puzzle, even when it didn’t want them to. They could still control  _ something _ . The puzzles made the thing confused. There was no real threat here, no real violence. Sans made the thing and Frisk both uneasy for reasons they didn’t know, but Papyrus was-

 

-utterly idiotic.

-sweet, Frisk thought, a little more firmly.

 

They moved forward, though fighting against the thing’s dislike of the situation was like wading through a bog. Frisk felt like a zombie, shuffling about without any real life to them. The thing coiled in their mind, ready to lash out should anything get in their way.

 

But nobody came.

 

Ahead, Sans and Papyrus stood in front of a cleared space that probably should have held a puzzle. Instead, there was just a sheet of paper lying facedown on the ground.

 

“SANS!!! WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS? WHERE IS YOUR PUZZLE?”

 

“trust me, bro. they’re never gonna pass this one up.”

 

A waste of time, the thing scoffed. It pushed forward, and pushed  **hard** . Frisk blinked, keeping their feet still against the thing’s wishes. Don’t fight me! Don’t you  **DARE** .

 

Frisk took a couple carefully controlled steps forward into the cleared space. A little dust sprinkled down onto the paper when they grabbed it. Their stomach turned violently, but they held onto control through the nausea. If that meant their grip was a little too tight and the paper crumpled slightly, that was okay. Frisk flipped it over and blinked again. It was a… wordsearch? For a fleeting moment, Frisk wished they had a pen.

 

If I had a pen I would stab it right through the little skeleton.

Shut  _ up _ , Frisk thought, a little more firmly. The voice stopped pushing against their will, probably as surprised as Frisk was that they’d snapped at it. Frisk folded the paper up carefully and tucked it into their pocket for later.

 

“SANS!!! THE HUMAN LIKED YOUR PUZZLE?!? BUT THEY’RE TAKING IT WITH THEM!”

 

“oh. i guess i didnt think about that.”

 

“SANS, YOU BONEHEAD!” Papyrus stormed off.

 

Sans waited, eyeing Frisk with those eerie pupils. “well i guess if you like” and his expression was so knowing that Frisk was almost sure he’d been watching them solve the leftover puzzles, “ _ wordsearches _ , you can’t be all bad.”

 

Don’t count on it, the thing said. I’m still here.    
Frisk felt exhausted after the effort it had taken to wrest control back of their body. They shuddered, looking down at the ground. The thing had no trouble moving forward again. When Frisk’s head raised, Sans was gone.

 

…

 

“HALT, HUMAN.” 

 

Frisk’s head tipped up so that they could look at the skeleton. Frisk panicked. No, no, not this, they can’t… they… won’t…    
The thing grinned, and Frisk could feel its sick smile pulling at their own lips.

 

“I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, HAVE SOME THINGS TO SAY.”

 

The thing forced Frisk’s body a few steps forward, even as Frisk tried to pull back.

 

“THE WAY YOU SHAMBLE ABOUT FROM PLACE TO PLACE- YEAH, LIKE THAT.” The thing had taken a few more steps. Frisk struggled. They couldn’t even  _ cry _ . “THE WAY YOUR HANDS ARE ALWAYS COVERED IN DUSTY POWDER.” The same dust on their clothes, their knife, their soul. Frisk couldn’t even cry. “IT FEELS…” Papyrus’ voice was almost tender. “LIKE YOUR LIFE IS GOING DOWN A DANGEROUS PATH.”

 

**G O O D** .   
not good not good no no no no

 

“HOWEVER! I, PAPYRUS, SEE GREAT POTENTIAL WITHIN YOU.” The thing snickered. Aw, Frisk, I think he means  **you** . What little there is left, anyway.  “EVERYONE CAN BE A GREAT PERSON IF THEY TRY!” The thing forced Frisk a few more steps forward. Papyrus very obviously didn’t flinch back. “THIS IS EXACTLY THE THING I AM TALKING ABOUT. HUMAN! I THINK YOU ARE IN NEED OF GUIDANCE!” 

 

Awww, but that’s why you have  **me** , isn’t that right, Frisk?   
Frisk whimpered. They already knew what the thing planned to do. They didn’t want this. Even with the thing in their head, the skeleton had been nothing but kind to them.

 

“SOMEONE NEEDS TO KEEP YOU ON THE STRAIGHT AND NARROW,” he continued. “BUT WORRY NOT! I, PAPYRUS, WILL GLADLY BE YOUR FRIEND AND TUTOR. I WILL TURN YOUR LIFE RIGHT AROUND! I WELCOME YOU WITH OPEN ARMS.”

 

Papyrus looked at Frisk for a long moment before kneeling in the snow and holding his arms open for an embrace. The thing didn’t even laugh, instead shrieking at this open display of affection. Frisk’s hand gripped the knife so hard they thought they’d have blisters.

 

**P A T H E T I C** .

No no no no no no you can’t kill him you can’t hurt Papyrus no no _no no_ _NO_

 

The thing tried to take a step but Frisk pushed back with everything they had. What are you doing?  **FRISK** -   
You can’t you can’t you can’t  _ you can’t _

 

Their body swayed. 

 

FRISK.  **STOP THIS  R I G H T** **** **N O W** .

I won’t  _ let _ you hurt anyone else, Frisk cried out.

The thing-  _ Chara _ , its name was  **_Chara_ ** , let out a wordless scream of rage. It felt like it filled Frisk’s head until there was no more room for them, but that was okay. They  _ remembered _ . They remembered  _ everything _ . They slammed a door in Chara’s face, turning completely away.  _ You won’t hurt them ever again!  _ Frisk was determined to make sure of that.

 

The knife fell from nerveless fingers. Tears rolled down Frisk’s face, their whole frame trembling. They flung themselves at Papyrus, knowing he would never expect  _ this _ \- arms wrapped around his middle, face pressed against his chest. “I’m sorry Papyrus,” they wailed. “I’m so sorry!”

 

Papyrus settled his arms around them gently, hand stroking their hair. “WOWIE. YOU DID IT. YOU DIDN’T DO A VIOLENCE.” He seemed confused, but of course Papyrus would forgive them instantly. Of course Papyrus would comfort them. Their heart felt like it was breaking even as it felt whole again. They’d missed their best friend  _ so much _ . “TO BE HONEST, I WAS A LITTLE AFRAID…” His voice shook, but his hands didn’t. “BUT YOU’RE ALREADY BECOMING A GREAT PERSON.” Frisk sobbed harder, words becoming incoherent noise. Their heart filled with love and they clutched Papyrus a little tighter; his acceptance a beacon for that little sheltered corner of themselves to come out of hiding. They’d almost let the thing- Chara- kill Papyrus. They let it kill Toriel.

 

They had to do better next time.

 

Eventually Frisk gathered themselves enough to let go of Papyrus. The front of his shirt was soaked in tears but he didn’t seem to mind. Frisk looked up at their friend and managed a weak smile. They couldn’t leave the world like this. Papyrus deserved better.  _ Toriel _ deserved better. Frisk was determined to make it  _ right _ . “Papyrus-” their throat closed up around all the things they wanted to say, like I love you and I’m sorry and I’ll never hurt you like that again. Instead, they patted his hand and managed a simple “Thank you.”

 

“OF COURSE, HUMAN! THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS AN EVEN GREATER FRIEND. EVERYONE DESERVES A COOL FRIEND SUCH AS ME.”

 

Frisk stood, legs cold from the snow. “There’s something I’ve gotta do,” they said softly. They patted Papyrus’ hand again, not quite ready to let go of their best friend so soon after finding him again. “I’ll-” they blinked back the tears that welled up. Frisk was filled with determination. “I’ll see you next time around, okay?”

 

“I WILL BE THERE, BEING A TOTALLY COOL FRIEND, SHOULD YOU NEED ME.”

 

Frisk watched him go, hugging their arms to their chest for warmth. Tears rolled down their cheeks, but they didn’t mind the sting of the cold. They didn’t even mind the dust between their fingers. They could fix this. They  _ would _ fix this. They could go back to where it all began.

 

There was only one thing left to do.

  
  



End file.
